Say what?
An ol’ buddy proudly showed me
his new hearing aid
And advised me to invest in
some of the company’s stock
Interested, I asked
“what kind is it? ”
He replied
“it’s almost eight o’clock! ”
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I Asked God
“When I Asked God for Strength
He Gave Me Difficult Situations to Face
When I Asked God for Brain & Brown
He Gave Me Puzzles in Life to Solve
When I Asked God for Happiness
He Showed Me Some Unhappy People
When I Asked God for Wealth
He Showed Me How to Work Hard
When I Asked God for Favors
He Showed Me Opportunities to Work Hard
When I Asked God for Peace
He Showed Me How to Help Others
God Gave Me Nothing I Wanted
He Gave Me Everything I Needed.”
poem by Shivani Nalkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shareholder activism is not a privilege - it is a right and a responsibility. When we invest in a company, we own part of that company and we are partly responsible for how that company progresses. If we believe there is something going wrong with the company, then we, as shareholders, must become active and vocal.
quote by Mark Mobius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Little Chimney Sweep - Victorian Times
What is above all these chimneys, I asked the young lad,
The chimney sweep boy replied,
Why Sir, it's the sky which is sometimes so blue,
That when I look up and glance at the view,
Such glory cannot be denied.
What lies in that sky then, I asked the young lad,
The boy gazing up now replied,
Oh Sir, clouds and sunshine, at night moon and stars,
Planets like Jupiter, Saturn and Mars,
What wonders out there can be spied?
Is your work very unbearable, I asked the young lad,
Most times Sir, it is, he replied,
From dawn until dusk, I'm climbing to sweep,
The soot from the chimneys, for my food and my keep,
My Master cannot be defied.
Do you 'welcome' the sky, I asked the young lad,
When I'm climbing, I do, he replied,
It's my friend when it's dark and the way up is hard,
Because sometimes I get burn't and then badly scarred,
There's many a time I have cried.
What then do you wish for, I asked the young lad,
With yearning, he slowly replied,
I would love to be free and fly like the birds,
Way up in the sky, and if I had the words,
Write about how I'd feel like inside.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Conversation with God
One day while I was dreaming I heard a soft like voice
It called me to a pond
and asked to recite
the stories of my childhood
I thought it very strange
Then with deafening noise it came
It took me to the pond and asked me 'what I could see'
'I see me' I replied
'Very good' it said
'Now do you see' it asked
'I see a little child with hair as bright as fire'
'Who is that child' it asked
'It is me' I replied again
'Do you remember what that child was like'
'No' I replied
'Until you become a child again you'll see no more'
'I do not understand' I said
'You will' came the voice
'When' I asked
'When you believe that I am real'
'But you are real' I answered
'Only one who truly believes can understand'
poem by Rachel Branscombe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Nun
She was black.
A salvation army nun,
and I was just me,
though richer than
usual,
waiting
for my connection
to take me to heaven
to my version of God.
She asked and I gave.
“You are a good man”
she told me.
“God will not forget you.”
“God is dead.” I replied.'
“..and you don’t need
Nietzsche or the 12 o’clock
news to tell you that”
“I pray He will
forgive you your
blasphemy.”
she answered.
“So do I.”
I replied.
'So do I'
We both smiled
knowingly.
poem by Carsten Thomsen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunflowers After Sex.
After the sex she stood
In front of the Van Gogh
Painting and gazed. Never
Saw that last night, she said.
It was dark, Max replied.
She touched the painting
With her fingers. Why have
A painting of flowers when
You can go out and buy some?
She asked. They last longer this
Way, he replied. So did you
Paint this? She asked in a state
Of semi undress, her eyes sleepy,
Her hair in a mess. No, Van Gogh
Did, he replied. Is he a friend of
Yours? She asked rubbing her breasts.
He sighed and shook his head. No,
Van Gogh painted that many years
Ago, now he’s dead. It’s a bit yellow,
She said, looking at the painting
Closer, what are those yellow flowers
Supposed to be? Sunflowers, he said,
They’re big flowers; people grow them
For real. She raised her eyebrows and
Pulled a face. What about that drink?
She asked. Sure, Max replied pouring
Her gin in a tall glass. She took, sipped
And winked an eye. What about more
Sex? She sighed. Sure, Max, looking at
Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, boringly replied.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And Pussy cat
Pussy pussy cat pussy cat
Where have you been
And pussy cat replied
He had been to London
To look at the queen
Again I asked Pussy cat
Where have you been
And pussy cat replied
He had been to Odisha
To look at English
Rule of Nabin.
Pussy cat pussy cat
Further I asked where
Have you been and
Pussy cat replied
He had been to see
Odia people who are fool
And how odia people
Still remain cool
Pussy pussy cat
I asked where have
You been and pussy cat
Replied he had been
To India to see
The democratic rule.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I invested in many companies, and I'm happy this one worked. This is capitalism. You invest in stock, it goes up, it goes down. You know, if you don't like capitalism, you don't like making money with stock, move to Cuba or China.
quote by Terry McAuliffe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flizzo
When I first seen you I knew you where mad chill
I taught you about how the East does it
You schooled me on the West
You showed me new artists to listen to
I showed you my obssesion for Tupac
Are first disscusion was marijuana
And how different it is from the West
You where my new buddy
We did almost everything together
You even seen me cry which no one really ever has
You helped me through some hard times
You stayed for almost a year, but I guess you couldn't make it
Towards the ending of your journey
You started dating my cousin
Which at first was cool
Then she turned everything around
Everyone was arguing with eachother
Because me and her didn't talk
I guess it meant you couldn't talk with me
Ok I see how it is
All I ever wanted was to have my buddy back
You finally broke up, but I saw that you loved her
How could you be in love with someone that hurts you?
Well I guess that's your own problem
I finally accepted the fact
I was never going to have my buddy back....
poem by Ashley Olson
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The Recumbent Posture
The day after Christmas, young Albert
Were what's called, confined to his bed,
With a tight kind of pain in his stummick
And a light feeling up in his head.
His parents were all in a fluster
When they saw little lad were so sick,
They said, 'Put out your tongue!', When they'd seen it
They said, 'Put it back again - quick!'
Ma made him a basin of gruel,
But that were a move for the worse;
Though the little lad tried hard to eat it,
At the finish he did the reverse.
The pain showed no signs of abating,
So at last they got Doctor to call.
He said it were in the ab-domain
And not in the stummick at all.
He sent up a bottle of physick,
With instructions on t' label to say,
'To be taken in a recumbent posture,
One teaspoon, three times a day.'
As Ma stood there reading the label
Pa started to fidget about.
He said 'Get a teaspoon and dose him,
Before he gets better without.'
'I can manage the teaspoon' said Mother
A look of distress on her face.
'It's this 'ere recumbent posture...
I haven't got one in the place.'
Said Pa, 'What about Mrs Lupton?..
Next door 'ere - you'd better ask her;
A woman who's buried three husbands
Is sure to have one of them there.'
So they went round and asked Mrs Lupton,
'Aye, I know what you mean,' she replied,
'I 'ad one on order for 'Orace,
But poor dear got impatient and died.'
She said, 'You'd best try the Co-Op shop,
They'll have one in stock I dare say;
' Fact I think I saw one in the winder
Last time I was passing that way.'
So round they went to the Co-Op shop,
And at the counter for household supplies;
Pa asked for a recumbent posture
And the shopman said 'Yes sir... what size?'
Said Ma, 'It's for our little Albert,
I don't know what size he would use,
I know he takes thirteen in collars,
And sixes, four fittings, in shoes.'
'If it's little lads size as you're wanting,'
Said the shopman, 'I'm sorry to say,
We nobbut had one in the building,
And that one were sold yesterday.'
He sent them across to a tin-smith,
Who said, 'I know what you've in mind;
If you'll draw me a pattern, I'll make one.'
But Pa'd left his pencil behind.
They tried every shop they could think of,
They walked for two hours by the clock,
And though most places reckoned to keep them,
They'd none of them got one in stock.
The last place they tried was the chemist,
He looked at them both with a frown.
And told them a recumbent posture
Were Latin, and meant lying down.
It means 'Lying down' - put in Latin
Said Father, 'That's just what I thowt.'
Then he picked up a side-glance from Mother,
And pretended he hadn't said nowt.
'They're not dosing my lad with Latin.'
Said Mother, her face looking grim,
'Just plain Castor Oil's all he's getting
And I'm leaving the posture to him.'
poem by Marriott Edgar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Perpetual Stream Of Sacred Consciousness
I asked the mountain
You are very strong
you will exist till the end of creation
The mountain replied numbly
No, Nay, not so
the water can flow me and
convert me to a plain land
then my existence will vanish
I asked the rock
no one can melt you
the rock also replied numbly
No, Nay not so
the water can melt me
and I will be no more
I asked the trees
the water will destroy you
the tree replied
No, Nay not so
it shall irrigate me and
give me life
I asked each and every creatures
all replied
water is more soft, more rich
and more strong
it can destroy and give life too
it can quench thirst of all
and give life to all
I asked the Water
You are soft and mild
You are rich and strong too
The water replied
No, Nay not so
I may be dried at any time
It is poetry,
a perpetual stream of sacred consciousness
flowing ever and ever
beyond the stars and planets and
even beyond plenty of universe
The Poetry can save me and
pray to God for my survival.
poem by Ramesh Rai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alice Sick
SICK, Alice grown, and fearing dire event,
Some friend advised a servant should be sent
Her confessor to bring and ease her mind;--
Yes, she replied, to see him I'm inclined;
Let father Andrew instantly be sought:--
By him salvation usually I'm taught.
A MESSENGER was told, without delay,
To take, with rapid steps, the convent way;
He rang the bell--a monk enquired his name,
And asked for what, or whom, the fellow came.
I father Andrew want, the wight replied,
Who's oft to Alice confessor and guide:
With Andrew, cried the other, would you speak?
If that's the case, he's far enough to seek;
Poor man! he's left us for the regions blessed,
And has in Paradise ten years confessed.
poem by La Fontaine
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Recently, I was asked if I was going to fire an employee who made a mistake that cost the company $600,000. No, I replied, I just spent $600,000 training him. Why would I want somebody to hire his experience?
quote by Thomas John Watson, Sr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Recently, I was asked if I was going to fire an employee who made a mistake that cost the company 600,000. No, I replied, I just spent 600,000 training him. Why would I want somebody to hire his experience
quote by Thomas John Watson, Sr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Precious Family
Oh precious family,
You are my all.
When the world trips me
You break my fall.
Many things tempt my time.
I dare not waste the clock.
With the sound of each chime,
I must take stock.
As days disappear,
I will invest time
To keep you loved ones near
And share the sublime.
Since money and power
Are toxic to precious family,
I'll spend each waking hour
Loving you completely.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hik-Tee-Dik!
THE WAR-CRY OF BILLY AND BUDDY
When two little boys--renowned but for noise--
Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy!--
May hurt a whole school, and the head it employs,
Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy!
Such loud and hilarious pupils indeed
Need learning--and yet something further they need,
Though fond hearts that love them may sorrow and bleed.
Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy!
O the schoolmarm was cool, and in no wise a fool;
Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy!
And in ruling her ranks it was _her_ rule to _rule_;
Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy!
So when these two pupils conspired, every day,
Some mad piece of mischief, with whoop and hoo-ray,
That hurt yet defied her,--how happy were they!--
Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy!
At the ring of the bell they 'd rush in with a yell--
Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy!
And they'd bang the school-door till the plastering fell,
Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy!
They'd clinch as they came, and pretend not to see
As they knocked her desk over--then, _My!_ and _O-me!_
How awfully sorry they'd both seem to be!
Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy!
This trick seemed so neat and so safe a conceit,--
Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy!--
They played it three times--though the third they were beat;
Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy!
For the teacher, she righted her desk--raised the lid
And folded and packed away each little kid--
Closed the incident so--yes, and locked it, she did--
Hik-tee-dik! Billy and Buddy!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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J. Ms Question
Virginias in the bath house sayin,dont drink the water,
And Im already in the swimmin pool.
The woman in the straw hat said, the meat aint worth eatin,
And sunbathin here, baby, aint so cool.
Theres a hole in the ozone and the rats all got cancer
From too much tartar and nicotine.
Well, what kind of world do we live in
When the babysitter treats all the kids so mean?
No tresspassing will blow your brains out,
Will do it with atomic bomb.
Theyre cuttin down the rain forest and the food heres fattenin,
And I hope theres no satanic message in this song.
But, theres live aid and farm aid and all kind of hand grenades
To help us all get along.
Well, what kind of world do we live in
When evrything we do turns out so wrong?
Well, what kind of world do we live in
When eleven and seven equals two? yeah.
What kind of world do we live in
When you do it to your buddy fore he does it to you?
Got to do it to your buddy fore he does it to you.
The preacher he hands out verse and scripture
Just like he wrote it down himself.
Doctors and lawyers got a good thing going,
But that aint no place to go if you need help.
Theres too much sodium in my heartburn medicine
And I think I need to lay down for awhile.
Well, what kind of world do we live in
When evrything we do we do with such style?
Well, what kind of world do we live in
When eleven and seven equals two? yeah.
What kind of world do we live in
When you do it to your buddy fore he does it to you?
Got to do it to your buddy fore he does it to you.
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Investments
Who is paying the price for the debt we rack up?
We all do.
Time is the currency of life.
Invest your time in what you want to grow.
When you invest money, you make more money.
If you invest in war, then you will have many battles.
If you invest in hatred, then hatred shall multiply.
If you invest in love then love will grow.
Every investment is a risk
If you do not risk, then you do not see your investment grow.
Nobody is broke,
But we are all broken.
You can only spend each second once.
Once it is all spent, we leave our inheritance to our children.
What do I want to leave to my children?
For the sake of themselves and their children?
If we invest in love,
We invest in our children.
We are responsible for our own bank accounts,
But also for theirs.
They will learn how to invest from us.
Love is the greatest risk.
But it offers the greatest of rewards.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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The way we're really going to grow the economy is to invest in people, to invest in innovation, to have the federal government put money in the kind of research that will create the new high-technology, biotechnology industries that will create the millions of new jobs.
quote by Joe Lieberman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I cannot forget a conversation that I had with an elderly couple from the tribe. They asked me whether I would kill them after I had finished. When I asked them why they asked that, they replied, Because you white men always do!
quote by Roland Joffe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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